Softball - this sport has been a bone of contention between my man and I at times. You see, when we first met, he was playing on a men's rec team. Before I knew it, he'd joined another rec team and was playing four nights a week. He would go to the fields directly from work and I was lucky if I saw him back at the house before 11pm.
Don't get me wrong, Tay and I ventured out to many a game and had a great time. She was very small at the time (think 2.5 to 3 years) and she particularly loved the snack shack. My independent little miss was so small the ladies working at the concessions stand couldn't see her little head over the counter. It was (generally) a good time to be had by all.
Until the nights began to add up and we saw Davey less and less. Then came the injury. Caught between second and third, a runner on the opposing team decided it was smarter to take out the knee of the person who was standing on second (that would be Dave) than to get out.
In case there's any confusion - he was wrong. But he didn't suffer the consequences. Dave did, though.
What was initially thought to be a meniscus tear was found to be a torn ACL through exploratory surgery. A surgery that took place at Scott & White (where he worked at the time) where you have to block out a certain amount of OR time. When time is up, you have to get out.
Which led to a knee that was "patched up" and not completely fixed. And eight weeks off of work.
Awesome, huh?
Well, not as awesome as the fact that we've now changed insurance and the knee that needs to be actually fixed can't be because none of the doctors in this town know - or believe - the history.
But I digress.
Anyway, my man was told to hang up his cleats forever. And I admit to being slap happy giddy about it. I won't lie.
So imagine my surprise when our Sunday School class was looking for another player (on a day when Dave was working) and I actually volunteered him. It was clearly the Holy Spirit overtaking my body because that's just not rational thinking on my part.
Or was it?
You see, I think it's fabulous that Dave now has a group of Christian men to play with. He enjoys it a great deal and we now have something to do every Tuesday night. As for the possibility of another injury?
Well, I'm praying that because he's playing on the Lord's team, he'll be protected. That and I'm also banking on him being a bit older and a lot smarter this time.
Stay tuned to see if that hypothesis holds up.
In the meantime, we're having a blast at the softball fields.
See?
Cute catcher, huh?
Our Sunday School teacher, Michael, is the pitcher.
Well, some things obviously never change.
She was so excited to go to Davey's first game she could hardly stand herself. I thought it was so precious that she wanted to root the team to victory. But I later found out that wasn't quite the case.
For, you see, she's hiding a special little something behind her back. A treat, you might say. Or perhaps you could call it the real reason she wanted to attend.
What is it, you might ask?Why, a pickle, of course! Not just any pickle either - it's a "softball pickle."
Clearly, while some things change dramatically, others never do. 
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